


without a word

by mixtapestar



Series: Comfortween 2020 [21]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Curses, Established Relationship, Fillory (The Magicians), M/M, Negotiations, Nonverbal Communication, loss of speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: Quentin gets hit with a Cat Got Your Tongue enchantment in Fillory.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: Comfortween 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948594
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	without a word

**Author's Note:**

> For Comfortween Day 21: Who Turned Out The Lights? (helping someone with the temporary loss of a sense or ability).
> 
> Thank you Rubi & Hoko for reading through!

When Quentin is hit with a Cat Got Your Tongue enchantment—something they never knew existed until Quentin shows up back at the castle unable to make a sound—Margo and Eliot devote themselves to trying to find the cure. Fillorians are familiar with the effects, that you can get it for offending a fairy, but that's as much as they can find out just by asking questions. Quentin can't fathom what he might have done, when they ask, and his written recap of events does them no good. With fairy deals no longer available to them, it takes a lot more research and effort to try to get in touch with someone that can help.

In the meantime, Eliot can see Quentin getting restless. He has to remind Quentin daily to _try_ to talk, even though it doesn't work, so that his muscles will remember what to do once they get this resolved.

A week's worth of useless searching later, Eliot is exhausted, and Quentin is more withdrawn than ever. Eliot doesn't blame him for spending almost the entire day in bed, but it's clearly affecting his mood. When Eliot returns to bed after a long day of court shit and research, he smooths Quentin's hair back and asks, "What can I do right now that will make your day better?"

Quentin sits up, then, going straight for Eliot's mouth, and then his hand is groping over the front of Eliot's Fillorian breeches. Eliot hums happily; this he can do. "Yeah?" he asks between kisses. "You sure you're up for it?"

Quentin glares and pulls Eliot's hand over to where he's already half-hard beneath the sheets.

Eliot laughs lightly. "Okay, good, well. I've actually been thinking about this." Quentin's eyebrows shoot up. "I know, surprise, surprise. But we need a way to be together without me potentially doing something you don't like. You know how much I love to hear you, but it can be sexy to get your feedback some other way."

Quentin licks his lips, eyes going wide as he nods, a silent, _Tell me_.

"Right. So, first off. Do you think you could keep a hand on my body, in vaguely the same spot, without it taking you out of what we're doing together?" Quentin considers this for a moment before nodding. "Great, so. Here's what I'm thinking. It's kind of a variation on the red/yellow/green we've used before. If I do something—anything, no matter how small—that you don't like, you take your hand off of me, and I stop, no questions asked. With me so far?" Quentin nods again, looking eager. "If things are starting to veer away from something you want, and you want to warn me, give me a push wherever your hand is. That'll be our 'yellow'. You can also use this to say 'no' if I ask you a question."

Quentin sits up, looking more lively than Eliot's seen him in a while. He reaches for the notepad by the bed and scribbles something down before showing Eliot. _You've really put a lot of thought into this_.

Eliot presses a kiss to Quentin's temple. "It's important to me that you're in this as much as I am." Quentin nudges him to go on. "Right, so, green. If I do something you like, that you want to tell me about, you can squeeze. Same if you want to answer 'yes' to something and I can't see you nod."

Quentin bites his lip, looking introspective, so Eliot stays silent. After a moment, Quentin writes again. _I thought you didn't want to be with me like this_.

"Oh, baby boy, no," Eliot says, feeling awful. He gathers Quentin into his lap, where he goes easily, letting the notebook fall to the side. "I will always want to be with you," Eliot says softly against his ear. "We'll figure this curse thing out, but even if we don't, you're still my Q. We'll just have to adapt, like we always have."

Quentin tilts his head up and kisses him sweetly. Eliot smooths a hand over the side of his neck to wrap around the back, while Quentin reaches for his shoulders and, after a moment, squeezes deliberately. "Yeah? Good, huh?" Quentin squeezes again. Eliot huffs a laugh. "You like this system? No notes?"

Quentin quirks a brow and shakes his head. _Not yet_.

Eliot grins. "Let's get naked first. I don't want to misread signals just because we're wrestling with Fillorian cords." It's easy for Quentin, who's basically in his pajamas, so Eliot is still working loose the sinches of his corset vest when Quentin comes to him, stilling his hands and taking over. After removing the vest, Quentin smooths his hands over Eliot's back, lifting up the loose shirt he's worn all day, and Eliot sighs in relief. "Yeah, that's nice."

Eliot steps out of his breeches and turns to Quentin. He offers his wrist, and Quentin lays his hand over it deliberately. "Sit on the bed for me?" Quentin squeezes a _yes_ and does so, pulling Eliot along with him, and then spreading his legs a little in anticipation.

"That's good. Mm, you're so gorgeous, baby." He takes Quentin's cock in hand, sinking his mouth down over it and sucking him, feeling him harden against his tongue. He goes to move his wrist before remembering their system, and wordlessly shifts Quentin's hand to his shoulder. "Good?" he asks while he performs the lubrication spell over his wrist. He gets a firm _yes_ and returns to his work, stroking Quentin's cock with one hand while he laps at the slit, and rolling his balls in his palm with the other. Quentin's hand squeezes again, and when Eliot glances up, he sees Quentin’s head thrown back.

"You look so good, all flushed for me," Eliot says, and the fingers of Quentin's free hand slide into his hair as he goes down on him again. He works up a steady rhythm, urged on by Quentin clutching at his shoulder every so often, imagining Quentin shouting a _yes_ every time.

It's not a perfect system. At one point, Quentin moves his right hand out of Eliot's hair, and Eliot freezes for a moment before he realizes Quentin's left hand is still resting resolutely on his shoulder. He pulls off carefully and gazes up at Quentin. "Still good?" and Quentin looks a little lost as he squeezes, _Yes, yes, don't stop_.

Eliot doubles his efforts, suddenly desperate to see Quentin come. He shifts up on his knees to get a better angle, pulling Quentin in a little further with every downstroke. He can feel Quentin's orgasm building by the way he jerks his hips, how his thighs tense, and Quentin confirms it by placing his free hand on Eliot's other shoulder and squeezing there too.

"That's it, let me see you come, baby," Eliot says, pumping at Quentin's cock and pressing his tongue firmly under the head. His grip is tight against Eliot's shoulder as he pushes into the touch and comes, striping over Eliot's lip and cheek and his own chest. "Fuck yeah," Eliot says, licking at his top lip. Quentin pets at his head, finally releasing his hold on Eliot's shoulder, but he doesn't move his hand.

Eliot maneuvers the two of them back onto the bed, Quentin pliant in his arms. Quentin's face lights up in a silent laugh before he licks his own come off Eliot's cheek.

Eliot's breath catches. "Fuck, you have no idea how much you turn me on," he says, moving in to share the taste of Quentin through a burning kiss. Quentin skims a hand down Eliot's body to slide over his erection, making Eliot moan and break the kiss.

"Yeah, touch me. Feel how badly I want you. You wanna get me off?" Quentin squeezes his cock, and fuck, there's a creative way to use this system. "What do you think? Wanna put your mouth on me? Wanna suck me?"

Quentin nods, wide-eyed, and scrambles for his notebook, nearly dropping it in the process. _Keep asking me questions? be my voice?_

Eliot nods, even as he tries to parse Quentin's words. "You want me to guess at what you're thinking? Let you say yes or no?"

Quentin nods again, still writing. _Yes but don't be a dick about it._

Eliot laughs. "I'll try not to," he vows. Quentin seems satisfied, setting aside the notebook and lubing up one hand before resting the other on Eliot's thigh. He leans over and takes his time with Eliot's cock, his touches light and fleeting, but it isn't until he jostles the muscle of Eliot's thigh that Eliot remembers his task. "God, Q. Okay. You like taking your time? Teasing me?" A light squeeze. "Making sure I'm already hard and leaking before you but your mouth on me?" Quentin's lips part, and even if Eliot can't hear it, he can imagine the moan. Quentin's squeeze is firmer this time.

He's rewarded for his efforts by Quentin mouthing at his shaft, sliding his tongue out to stroke it from the side. "Oh fuck, that's nice," Eliot says. "You like doing it this way? Reminds you how big I am?" Another squeezed _yes_ in answer. "Bet you can't wait to sink down on it. Get your mouth all full of me. Make me feel so good I can't hear my own thoughts, let alone fathom yours."

He's gonna have a bruise in the shape of Quentin's handprint at this rate; he has no regrets. It feels heavenly when Quentin finally takes him in, warm heat enveloping Eliot and making him moan. He slides his fingers into Quentin's hair, moving with him, marvelling at how amazing he is at sucking cock.

"I fuckin' love your mouth, baby. Can almost hear you moaning over my cock. You love to hear how good it is for me, don't you?" _Yes_. "It's unbelievable. Really can't believe—fuck—how lucky I am, most days."

He gets a little push on his leg, a slight _no_ , for that. "What, I'm not allowed to feel lucky?" He laughs as Quentin turns just enough to cut his eyes in a petulant look, even with Eliot's cock filling his mouth. "It's okay, baby. I can feel lucky without feeling—" he breathes in sharply through his nose as Quentin sucks hard just under his crown— "undeserving. Let me appreciate you."

Remarkable how they can have the same old arguments even when Quentin can't make a sound. Eliot can't help feeling lucky—for Quentin's mouth, for his attention, for his love—and he knows he doesn't have to _earn_ it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't worry about fucking it all up. It's not Quentin's fault.

Fortunately, Quentin lets it go, seeming satisfied as he goes back to bobbing over Eliot's cock. Thoughts of old arguments fall away as he gets lost in the slide of Quentin's mouth, working him over so expertly that Eliot has to utter a warning before long. His thighs tense as Quentin takes him deep, squeezing a strong, sure _yes_ against him. He grips Quentin's hair just like he likes and moans out Q's name as he empties down his throat.

It's a little strange, the room silent except for Eliot's panting as he comes down. He's so used to every little sound Quentin makes; the catch of his breath, the satisfied hum he makes when Eliot kisses him after they get off. But it's still good, Quentin's tongue sliding against his as they settle onto the bed.

"That was lovely, baby. What did you think?"

Quentin smiles and lazily reaches up to squeeze Eliot's arm.

"Good," he says, cleaning them up expertly and pressing another kiss to Quentin's mouth. Quentin rolls over, sated and sleepy, and Eliot spoons up against him, tracing his finger down Quentin's arm. "We're going to figure this out, Q, I promise." Quentin reaches back to lace their fingers together, resting their joined hands over his chest. Eliot presses a kiss to the back of his neck and mutters, "I love you."

Quentin squeezes Eliot's hand in his. _I love you, too_.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! <3


End file.
